All I want
by Fairchildgirl
Summary: Clarissa Morgenstern is not one to be messed with. Known as the daughter of the most famous rebellion leader, she strikes fear into anyone who sees her. When a order from her father to kill everyone in the New York Institute backfires, Clarissa ends up captive to the Lightwoods and unable to escape. Everyone see's her as a threat. Except for the golden boy who wont seem to give up
1. Chapter 1: Kill them all

Clarissas blade hit the dummy with a bang. Right through the eye. She smirked. Clarissa knew she was good. Hell, Clarissa knew she was bloody fantastic, and she made sure everyone around her knew it too.

Clarissa Adele Morgenstern was not one to be messed with. She was known all through the downworld as a brutal assassin without a shed of mercy. She was feared and respected, for Clarissa that was all she needed. She loved the terror she'd see on her victims faces before she ruined them. She lived for the silence she encountered when she entered a room.

She was beautiful.

She was ruthless.

She was a legend.

She was everything she has aspired to be.

The only person she knew who was more feared than herself was her father. Valentine Morgenstern. Known as a brutal monster throughout all of the downworld, he was also the brave leader of the most dangerous rebels in all of the shadow world. The Circle.

Through she was talented and brutal, and could give any of her father's followers a run for their money, Clarissa barely ever got to go on hunts with her father, most of the time she would be sent to go deal with the low lifes her father just didn't have time for. She didn't mind too much, she still got to be a part of the action and help her father but she was dying for the day her father would acknowledge her skill.

She knew any day now she would be the new leader of the circle, and it was a day she had been looking forward to for years. Most little girls fantasize about their future seraph blades, their first boyfriends and idris. Clarissa on the other hand, dreamed about ripping the life right from her victims eyes, commanding her army of murderers and making her father proud of the ruler she had become.

So she waited for that day. She trained for hours until she was the absolute definition of perfection. She completed every mission her father sent her on with no mistake and no failures. She mastered every tongue spoke in the shadow world, and was skilled in every aspect a shadow hunter could possible be skilled in.

Clarissa found herself in the training room again today, as she did everyday before, and the day before that.

Waiting.

Always Waiting.

Wiping the sweat from her brow she sank down against the wall, closed her eyes and breathed a great sigh of relief.

" ?"

Clarissa squeezed her eyes tight in annoyance, took a deep breath and looked to the small maid in the doorway with a carefully calculated grimace.

Maia, was standing there, as Clarissa has suspected. Maia was a young werewolf her father had kidnapped about a year ago to make her Clarissas new maid. When she had first arrived her spirit was tough to break. Clarissa almost admired Maia for that. Every time she disobeyed and was subjected to the brutal punishment her father bestowed upon her she would scream bloody murder for someone named Jordan, she was so sure this Jordan would come save her. For months all Clarissa heard of was Maia's precious Jordan, but like every other girl and boy they had taken to join them, they were never rescued, left for dead.

"Yes, Maia?" Clarissa was kinder to Maia then most, she admired her spirit, or what was left of it.

"Your father wants you" Maia's eyes were completely glazed over, forever in a day dream.

"Very well" Clarissa turned back to the training room and gathered her things, when she looked back Maia was still standing there emotionlessly staring into nothing.

"You may leave dog" Maia, obviously in a daydream ignored Clarissa and her command. Clarissa rolled her eyes and sighed, picked up her blade and flung it across the room towards the absent minded maid, purposely missing her head by centimetres.

" _You may leave dog_ " Clarissa spit out the word like venom. Maia scowled at the insult and scurried away, murmuring cursing beneath her breath.

Clarissa grabbed her bag and waltzed through the dark, empty halls of her mansion to her father's study.

"Father?" she asked upon entering. He was reading a book, something old and dusty and furiously scribbling down notes. He looked at her briefly, and then back to scribbling. Clarissa waited for him to acknowledge her.

"I need you to deal with a problem for me" He spoke without making eye contact, that always annoyed Clarissa, but what could she do? He was the one person in the world she couldn't make respect her, she had to earn it. Apparently she hadn't done so yet.

"Of course father, who needs to die?" This might sound brutal, but it was her reality.

"I need you to make Robert Lightwood disappear"

"Of the New York Institute? I'll make it happen. Can I ask why?" She wasn't shocked, she honestly didn't care much about anyone, especially Robert Lightwood, who ever he was.

"No, you cannot. Leave tonight, please be back by morning."

More scribbles.

"Very well father" She made her way towards the exit, mentally preparing herself for the task.

"Oh and Clarissa?" He looked up from his notes.

"Yes father?"

"Dispose of the others too."

Now she was surprised.

"The others?"

"Yes, the wife, the children. Kill them. Kill them all."


	2. Chapter 2: Love Letters

**Hey guys! Here's chapter two, hope you enjoy. Please review and give your ideas and suggestions!**

 **-Mel :)**

Clarissa tried to keep her face void of emotion, but to take down an entire unarmed family seemed horrific. Even for Valentine. She couldn't help but be taken a little off guard.

"All of them? That's a whole unarmed family." She kept her voice steady, but she couldn't hide the shock on her face. She had taken down plenty on women and men in combat, she had killed wives, and unsuspecting husbands, but to kill an entire family for their fathers mistakes?

That felt much different. Maia came in and began to sweep the floors. Clarissa knew she was just trying to find out where she was off to next. Nosy, Clarissa thought.

"Clarissa, it's a family of shadowhunters. They are hardly unarmed. They're barely even children, the Lightwood children must be 18 at least." His tone bored and unaffected.

"That's not right." She murmured.

Valentine, who had hardly paying attention to his daughter, looked at her.

"What's that Clarissa? If you have something to say, do speak up. You know how much I hate your mumbling." His cold eyes started right through her, challenging her to speak to him.

"I said, that's not right." She steadied her gaze, trying to look as cold and unyielding as her father. "The youngest lightwood is Max. He's barely even ten."

"I am well aware of that" He snapped, he stood from his chair, crossing his arms. Daring her. Taunting her.

"You can't.. You can't expect me to murder an unarmed child." She stepped towards his desk, crossed her arms, mocking her father. She wasn't backing down. She was just as stubborn as he was so there was no changing her mind. Maia's sweeping the soundtrack to there staring contest.

"I knew you were soft Clarissa, but I never thought it would interfere with your work." He spit at her.

"I am _not soft."_ She threw out the word ' _soft_ ' like poison. It was the worst thing her father could ever say to her. It was her greatest fear, to be seen as soft.

"Then what on earth is so difficult for you?" His dead eyes penetrated through her very soul.

"You know exactly why this is difficult, _father"_ She stepped closer to him, careful not to seem fearful or unsure. "Or need I remind you that there used to be four of us in this damned house!"

Silence.

Clarissa realized she had crossed a line and carefully took a step away from her father. His eyes were menacing, shaking her to her very core.

"Father I-" She was cut short when her fathers hard met her face so sharply her body swayed. Clarissa could her Maias surprised gasp from across the room. Her eyes burned with hurt and embarrassment. Cradling her cheek, she looked up at him. There was no mercy, or fatherly love behind his eyes.

"I'm sorry father."

"Everytime I think I see a leader in you, you disappoint me yet again." He turned away from her and sat at his desk, resuming his note taking. "Please be back tomorrow morning Clarissa, think you can manage that?"

"Yes father." She lowered the hand that held her face and tried her best to regain her composure. She could tell her father was done with her so she made her way towards the exit.

"Oh and Clarissa?" She turned to face him.

"Yes father?"

"don't screw this up, as you so often do. It count's this time." Her cheeks heated up and she lowered her gaze. " _How can he still doubt me after all I've done?"_ She questioned.

"Of course not father."

Clarissa skimmed her collection of weapons, trying to decide what was necessary for her task. A blade? A whip? She packed both in her small duffle bag, just to be sure.

"Clarissa?" Maia's timid frame stood behind her, clutching a small piece of paper as if it would protect her from Clarissa's wrath.

"What do you want dog?" She barely even looked at Maia, and continued to sort through her many blades.

"I.. I hear you're going to New York." Clarissa set her blade down, and turned to face the girl.

"Where'd you hear that? Nosy little bitch." Maia flinched, but didn't back down as Clarissa had hoped.

"I wanted to ask you a favour." Clarissa raised her eyebrows in disbelief, Maia stepped closer to her and help out the scrap of paper. Clarissa eye'd it as if she couldn't bare to touch something a dog had.

"Jordan and I.. we had some friends at the New York Institute. I just thought, once you kill...once you kill them all you could leave this behind? I'm sure Jordan will go to the institute when he hears what happened. Maybe he'll find it and… I just want him to know I'm okay."

Clarissa wouldn't say Maia was exactly okay. She was frail and weak, her voice shook when she spoke and her eyes were the saddest she had ever seen.

Clarissa surprised herself and Maia when she took the letter from her and put it in her back pocket.

"Okay… I'll see what I can do." Maias eyes grew wide as saucers, shock evident on her face.

"Th-thank you. Really, Thank you." Maia hurriedly left the room, as if Clarissa might change her mind if she stared at Maia long enough. Once Maia left, Clarissa snapped out of her daze and was repulsed with her own kindness. She picked the letter out of her pocket, stared at it in disgust and ripped it to sheds.

She packed up the last of her blades and threw her bag over her shoulder. She tried to block the guilt of Maias letter that had started to eat away at her. Ridiculous, Clarissa was a warriors, she had no time for love letters and she didn't owe Maia a thing.

She drew herself a portal, took a breath and stepped through. Off to New York.

Her feet hit the pavement with a hard smack. Clarissa dusted herself off and took in her surroundings.

Sky high buildings towered over Clarissas small frame. The echo of sirens and car honks ricocheted through the air. The mundanes around her were totally oblivious to the petite redheaded girl in awe of the city due to her glamour.

Clarissa was tempted to wander the city, as it had been a dream to visit it since she was young. The quick moving, loudness of the metropolis was a contrast to her quite manor only inhabited by two. Most of her journeys took her to remote locations with no hustle or bustle of the New York.

How much damage would it really do to take in the sights? She was sure it would take her less than an hour to finish off the Lightwoods, what harm would it do to have a little adventure?

This was extremely unlike Clarissa, who never strayed from the plan, and never got too invested in her people or locations. She tucked herself into a quiet alleyway and pulled out her stele, she drew a rune carefully and watched her self transform in the window of the house next to her. Her signature freckles faded along with her porcelain skin, replaced by a sun kissed glow. Clarissas wild crimson curls became sleek chestnut tresses, her emerald eyes now chocolate. Clarissa sighed, if only she looked like that everyday. She stuffed her leather jackets in her bag, and tried to make herself look at mundane as possible.

What could possibly go wrong?

 **Thanks for reading! Please leave reviews and suggestions! What should happen to Clary in the big city?**

 **-Mel :)**


	3. Chapter 3: Java Jones

**Enjoy!**

 **-Mel :)**

New York had a smell. That's the conclusion Clarissa had come to after an hour or so of wandering the city streets. She has seen the empire state building, been run down in times square and passed under the bright lights of Broadway. She had to admit there was a busyness about the city she loved, although it was hard not to attack every mundane that bumped her shoulder as they passed her.

She was in awe of the mundanes too. She didn't come in contact with mundanes too often and was always shocked with their total ignorance of the shadow world. They were engrossed in their laptops, and starbucks. Rushing off to meetings and treating everything as if it was the end of the world. While Clarissa was actually trying to prevent the end of humanity, but the mundanes keep insisting on trying to end it all themselves.

In a way she was jealous of them, how peaceful it must be when you're biggest worry is if the guy will ask you out, will you get the promotion, are you wearing the right skirt.

 _If only,_ she thought.

She was snapped out of her daze with the rumble of her stomach. Where does a mundane go when hungry? She turned a corner and was hit with the strong smell of espresso. A rusting sign read " _Java Jones_ " an odd name, but coffee sounded good right now, so she couldn't bring herself to care.

The ring of a bell signalled her entrance. The warmth of the coffee house along with the horrible poetry coming from the stage made it almost likeable. She almost allowed herself to smile. Almost.

"What can I get for you?" Clarissa turned to face the young barista. Blonde, blue eyed, young and simple.

"Coffee. Black." She barked.

"Right away." She found herself a cozy seat on a couch in the corner of the coffeehouse, perfect view of the stage and the monstrosity happening on it. She dropped her backpack of weapons at her feet and tried to relax her tense shoulders and look more like the people around her, but she had never been very good at blending in. She sighed, what was she even doing here? She wasn't a tourist or a hipster in a cafe. She was a warrior on a mission.

"God I didn't think his poetry could get any worse." The voice belonged to a boy about Clarissas age, dark hair with glasses. _Cute,_ she thought. She hadn't noticed him sitting beside her until now.

"Sorry?" She said.

"Eric, the guy on stage. I really didn't think he could get worse." He said to her.

"You mean to tell me he's performed here before and they let him come back?"

The boy laughed, Clarissa was a bit startled. She wouldn't describe herself as funny and it was rare she heard laughter back home. The boy reached his hand out to her.

"I'm Simon." Despite her better judgement she shook him hand, and she may have smiled. Just a little.

"I'm Clar-, I'm Clara." She didn't know why she had lied, as if a mundane knowing her name was really going to make that much of a difference. The barista from earlier called out her order. _Shit, I haven't got any money_ , she realized. This was going to be incredibly awkward. She stumbled up to the barista, Simon behind her.

"Sorry, I've just remembered I haven't got any money on me." She didn't even know why she was apologizing, she could kill him in a blink of an eye.

The barista friendly face quickly grew annoyed.

"Listen lady, I don't give out handouts." Clarissa's face flushed with anger and she reached for the dagger in her boot.

"Relax, I've got it." The ever so kind Simon was fishing through his pockets for change. Clarissa realized she had been about to start a war over coffee and rolled her eyes at her own drama. She really wasn't meant for the mundane world. Simon payed the barista and handed Clarissa her cup.

"Black coffee?" he asked.

"Like my soul." Simon laughed again. Clarissa couldn't tell if his constant smiling and laughter was annoying her or making her love the mundane more. "Thank you Simon, I owe you."

"No problem Clara, I'm sure you'll return the favour next time. Do you live around here?"

"No actually, I'm a..I'm just a tourist for the weekend. I'm from..I'm from Canada." She hoped he wouldn't ask for any more details, she really knew nothing about Canada.

"Really? You've got to let me show you around. Come on, I'll show you the real Brooklyn." Is that were she had ended up? "You have some time right?"

She nodded, it was nearly 6 o'clock so she had a few more hours until she absolutely had to get to the Lightwoods.

"Great," he smiled "let me go grab my keys, I live upstairs. Do you wanna come up? I'm sure my roommate will want to join us."

It probably wasn't a great idea for her to follow a stranger up to his apartment but she knew she could take Simon and his roommate down if she had too. She doubted she would though.

"Yeah, alright." She followed Simon up the creaky wooden stairs to his apartment. They stopped outside a white door with 101 on the front. She wondered why there was any number at all if it was the only apartment on top of the coffeehouse. Simon knocked three times. Clarissa could hear the latch behind the door turn and the creak of the springs as it opened.

The now open door revealed another boy around Simons age but much bigger. His skin sun kissed like Clarissas glamour made her out to be. A messy mop of brown hair, and deep brown eyes paired with massive biceps made him quite the picture.

"Simon, Who's your friend?" The boy gave Simon a suggestive look to which Simon blushed and Clarissa rolled her eyes. She crossed her arms and gave her best glare.

"Clara, you are?" The boy turned from Simons red face to Clarissas angered one.

"Alright, alright wasn't trying to suggest anything." He grinned, wide and toothy, contradicting himself. "Come on in." He opened the door wide enough for Clarissa to slid in, and Simon to follow.

That's when it hit her.

"Do you have a dog?" She asked, eyeing the unnamed boy. She was now painfully on edge, well aware she was standing in the home of a werewolf. She felt for her stele, and readied herself to fight. The boy closed the door and turned towards Clarissa. His eyes unsuspecting, if anything he looked amused.

"No, why do you ask?"

"Just seem like dog people I guess." Simon watched the exchange with questioning eyes. Did he know about his roommate? _Poor mundane,_ she thought.

Wait.

The longer she stared at Simon the more idiotic she felt. Clarissa was a highly trained shadowhunter, she should have been able to tell the second she saw him he wasn't a mundane.

 _Vampire._

It was now painfully obvious. The paleness of his skin, the lightness of his movements, the red tinge of his eyes. _Idiot, idiot, idiot_ she thought. She was in the den of a werewolf and a vampire and had walked in willingly. That's what she deserved for letting herself relax. She was curious as to why the unlikely pair were living together, but it wasn't time for questions.

"I'm gonna take Clara to see the sights, she's from Canada." said Simon, he was now looking around for his keys and didn't seem to notice how the air had changed. The werewolf was still leaning against the door. He knew.

"Is she? Where abouts Clara?" He smirked.

"Toronto, downtown." She replied

"Ha, yeah right." He snarled. He crossed his arms and started to walk toward her, just as on edge as she.

"Hey guys what's going on?" Simon was clueless.

What are you really doing here Shadowhunter?" He was less than a metre away from her.

"What? Shadowhunter? Clara?" Clarissa looked back to Simon, she almost felt bad. He looked so genuinely hurt.

"I'd backup if I were you _dog."_ She readied herself in a fighting stance. The boys cheeks grew red with anger, and he snarled. Werewolves did have trouble controlling their tempers.

"Watch yourself, you're in my house. What do you want here? You're not a Lightwood and we follow the rules, we're not due a visit from the clave." His eyes questioned her.

She thought about revealing her identity then killing them both. Clarissa tended to have a dramatic flare, but that would draw too much attention before she even got to the Lightwoods. She cursed herself for letting herself end up in this situation.

"I'm a cousin of the Lightwoods, I'm just visiting from the Toronto institute, I wasn't planning on killing any downworlders but if that's what this comes down to." She spit back at him. The boy growled and leaped towards her, but she was faster. In less than a second, she had him pinned against a wall with a dagger to his throat.

"Woah woah woah! Let's all calm down shall we?" Simon begged the two.

"I could kill you right now dog, but I'm gonna go back to the institute and you're gonna forget I was ever here. Got it?" He stared at her in defiance, but nodded.

"You too vampire." Her guard was up and she was now determined to finish her mission and get home. Simon looked hurt, but he agreed. She lowered the dagger from the werewolf's throat and carefully backed away.

She dashed toward the entrance, and had her hand on the doorknob when something caught her eye.

On a small table beside the door, where she supposed they threw their keys was a picture frame. A photo of a young girl, maybe 17, smiling. A look of pure joy on her face, eyes sparkling. She was holding the hand of someone in front of her, radiating love.

" _Maia…"_ She picked up the photo and tried to imagine the weak, broken hearted girl she knew being happy, hopeful and in love.

"What the hell are you doing?" The boy raced across the room and ripped the photo from Clarissas hands. He held it close to his chest, his eyes the saddest and most broken hearted she had seen.

"Jordan?" She asked.

"What? What do you want with me? Just get out and get back to your own kind!"

This was him. The boy Maia had been screaming for, for months. Here he was, broken hearted and angry. Unknowingly staring his lovers kidnapper in the eye. Clarissa turned away from him, guilt eating away at her, a memory of a love letter laying in pieces before her. Before she closed the door behind her, she looked back to him.

"Jordan? She's... okay." His angry eyes softened, now he looked confused and so unbelievably hurt. She felt sick. This is what her father did, ripped people apart from the inside out.

"She's okay." she whispered, and closed the door, separating the brokenhearted boy from the girl who was unsure she had any heart left.

 **What do you think? Let me know!**

 **Suggestions for next chapter?**

 **-Mel :)**


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